


The Potter's, Both Old And New

by camichats



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Getting Together, James Lives, James is in Denial, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Past Peter Pettigrew/Remus Lupin, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2018-12-22 20:23:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11974341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Sirius helped raise Harry with James until they had a fight. Sirius hasn't seen them in years, but he's a teacher at Hogwarts, and Harry is now 11. With the constant danger Harry's in, and the likely return of Voldemort, they can't ignore their issues any longer.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Doing a slow burn? Believe me, I’m just as shocked as you are. 
> 
> Updates will be erratic because 1. This is mostly not written as of this moment 2. I have a job and apparently that takes up more time than doing nothing all day? Shocking, I know. 3. This isn't actually my highest priority writing wise. All that being said, I am very excited for this story. 
> 
> But yeah. Slow burn. I'll probably be as impatient as you because these fuckers aren't getting together for at least four years (not counting the prologue) and I don't plan on doing major time skips.

Sirius was coiled with- well, _some_ sort of tension, but he couldn't say whether it was good or bad. (Such a lie, he felt amazing, like he was floating high in the sky without a care in the world.) When little Harry had demanded that 'papa' come play lego with him, Sirius had frowned, looked around, and asked Harry just who 'papa' was. Harry had thought Sirius was playing some sort of game because he giggled and pretended to search the area before 'finding' Sirius.  
  
He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with Harry calling him that, so he didn't say anything. Did James know? Harry was a bit old to have decided to call him that without any sort of provocation, and while Harry was good for the occasional trick or two, he couldn't maintain innocence after it happened, so James probably hadn’t put him up to it. Not only that, but Harry was going on six, and Sirius had been around non-stop for the last four or five years-- ever since he moved in with James after Lily died to help out. It made sense for him to think of Sirius as his other parent.  
  
They were outside when James came home, Harry flying around the field behind the house on his tiny practice broom and Sirius sat on the bench Remus had found and made they keep.    
  
James collapsed on the bench and Sirius automatically raised a hand to rub at his back. "I take it it didn't go well?"  
  
"I'm about ready to be a hermit. What kind of ignorant _arsehole_ do you have to be to think a damn baby defeated Voldemort?"  
  
"The special, wizarding variety," Sirius responded promptly, getting a smile out of James. "They would rather believe a baby with some special, ancient, mystical power defeated him because it absolves them from any guilt. If they tell themselves that only the little Prongslet could defeat him, it means they would have been wasting their time to try to fight back."  
  
James sighed defeatedly, still hunched over with his hands propping up his head. "I know, it's just... why can't they leave him alone? Let him grow up like a normal kid?"  
  
Sirius opened his mouth to reply even though it wasn’t technically necessary-- they’d had conversations like this a few times every year since the end of the war-- but was cut off by Harry running over, something cradled in his hands, and yelling, "Papa! Papa look what I found!"  
  
James went rigid under Sirius's hand, and Sirius bit his lip before a curse could make its way out of his mouth. He loves Harry, he really does, but the timing could have been better. Like, for example, after he'd talked to James about it and had a course of action ready.

“What’ve you got there Haz?” Sirius leaned forward and took the opportunity to slide his hand off James. Much as the idea scared him, his touch may not be welcomed right now. Harry tilt his hands, a dirt covered something glinting in the open air. “Ah,” Sirius said, nodding like he knew what it was. “Why don’t you put it down over there and wash up?” Harry left without confirming, but he was obviously doing what Sirius asked.

Before Sirius could say anything, James said, voice tight and angry, “When did he start calling you that?”

The fear Sirius felt was… well, real seemed the best way to describe it. It was no longer an unfounded worry that came with all big developments in life. James was upset and Sirius didn’t know how to calm him. “Today. It sort of makes sense--”

“‘Makes sense’?” James sneered, glaring at him, posture aggressive, and Sirius had no clue where this was coming from and Merlin if that didn’t scare him even more. “You’re not his father, and you never will be.”

“I just thought--”

“That if you could get my kid to call you that, I’d… what? Fall in love with you all of a sudden?” He snorted derisively, and Sirius went cold. This was the only confirmation he had that James knew about his feelings, and to have him react like this was nothing short of a nightmare. There had been hints before, of course, a few slightly altered stories James told about his dates to not bother Sirius, a lie here and there about Sirius’s own interest in dating that James accepted easier than he would have if he’d been ignorant of Sirius’s feelings. But this…

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quietly. He didn’t know what he had meant. It’s not like he got to say anything, really.

James shook his head and stood up, not looking at him. “Get out. You can come back for your shit tomorrow, but after that I don’t want to see you.”

“What?” Sirius breathed, shocked and more terrified than he’d been facing down Death Eaters. “James--”

“Out. Now.”

Sirius blinked dumbly at him, tears filling his eyes for a moment before he turned and left, refusing to look back because he knew that James wouldn’t be. He wanted to fight back, to scream and cry and make a scene. Would have, if he’d thought it would help.

He landed unevenly on Remus’s doorstep, forgetting to knock, but it was okay. His apparation was loud enough that Remus heard it from inside his flat and came out to get him.

* * *

James didn’t know why he did it. It had been a long day, and he wanted nothing more than to have tea with his family, then curl up in bed with Sirius. People at the meeting had talked about Lily a lot, and his nerves were frayed from it. He was just… so tired, so aggravated, on a hair-trigger emotionally, and when Harry had called Sirius ‘papa’ like it was the most natural thing in the world, he wasn’t prepared to deal with it.

He hated that Harry couldn’t remember Lily at all, and in that moment, what he hated even more that Lily’s role was being taken by someone else, even Sirius.

It might have been fine, but then Sirius said that it made sense and James snapped. It shouldn’t make sense. _Lily_ was the one that wanted a kid, _Lily_ was the one that named Harry, and _Lily_ was the one James married and decided to start a family with. Lily belonged here and she _wasn’t_ and all James wanted in the world was to get rid of the person who _didn’t_ , and at the moment, that meant Sirius.

(He didn’t think about the fact that _he_ was the one to ask Sirius to stay with them, _he_ was the one to ask and nudge Sirius into the role of Harry’s other parent, and _he_ was the one who acted like they were married because Sirius had always been careful-- too careful, almost-- to ensure that James knew he wasn’t taking advantage and yet here James sat, having accused Sirius of exactly that and worse.)

Those emotions stayed with him for the next couple days. Sirius slipped in to grab his things, and slipped right back out so James barely noticed his presence. That was when the first pang of guilt hit. A week later he was lonely, and sick with regret. But every time he glanced at Harry, he was reminded why he shouldn’t just apologise and let everything go back to the way it was: Lily. He didn’t think about it too much, and that prevented him from fixing the best relationship he’d ever had.

“Daddy where’s Papa gone?”

“You don’t have a ‘papa’, sprog,” James explained patiently.

To his horror, Harry’s lip started wobbling and tears were falling from his eyes within seconds. “He left me?”

“No no no,” James rushed to assure him, pulling Harry into his arms and tucking him in neatly. “Sirius loves you very much,” _as much as I do_.

“When is he coming back?” Harry asked, his voice muffled in James’s shirt.

“He isn’t.” That set off a new bout of crying, and eventually he tried again. “Sirius loves you so much Harry, he didn’t want to leave, and I promise it had nothing to do with you.” A lie, but an innocent one all things considered. It certainly wasn’t a lie in the way Harry would assume.

Harry was old enough to remember that Sirius was gone in the following weeks, but every few days he would act like he expected Sirius to pop out of the woodwork to play or talk with him. Considering how often Sirius had done just that, it made sense, but it didn’t make the fallout any easier.

After a year, Harry stopped asking to see him. Eventually, he stopped asking what had happened, if he was coming back. It didn’t make James feel any better when he stopped, but by that point he was committed to keeping it secret. He was a coward for it, and though it ate at his insides like a parasite, he couldn’t bring himself to look Sirius up. How could he ask the person he loved most (aside from Harry) to forgive him for that?

* * *

Professor Dumbledore looked at him over his spectacles and Sirius wondered yet again if he could actually see ~~James sure as hell couldn’t without his~~. Were the spectacles for reading? If they were, it would make sense why he was constantly looking over them like the world’s best human x-ray. “You want to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?” he repeated.

Sirius shrugged like he didn’t care. “I know it’s a one year gig and that you’re having problems getting a new teacher.”

Dumbledore-- _Albus_ he kept insisting Sirius call him, but really, that was too weird-- leaned back in his chair, still looking at Sirius like he could see every single thing in his mind. “I need a new History of Magic teacher.”

Sirius probably couldn’t be more shocked if he tried. “You want me to teach History of Magic? What about Binns? I doubt he got exorcised since I last saw him. Besides, do you really think I’d be any good at teaching that shit? Dates, places no one’s heard of and don’t care about, aren’t exactly my forte.”

“You and I both know that is not the point of learning history.” Dumbledore leaned forward again, steepling his fingers in front of him. “I do not believe Voldemort is truly gone, Sirius.”

“What? But… Lily.” Lily had died to stop him. Had it been for nothing?

“Lily was a brave woman and a magnificent witch, but Voldemort did things that none of us predicted to save himself from being killed. We need to stop history from repeating itself _again_ , and I believe the students will be safer with you here. Don’t teach dates, teach morals, and you will have done your job.”

Sirius looked Dumbledore in the eyes and asked, “Is Harry in danger?”

“He will be.”

Gods but Sirius didn’t want to do this. Teaching was fun and there was nothing quite like that moment when a student understood what he was teaching, but he had walked into the school fully intending for it to be a one year commitment, a way for him to run away and not go crawling back to James and beg to know what he did wrong. Before he knew what he was doing, Sirius nodded. “Okay.”


	2. Hogwarts

“Dad, everyone’s staring at me,” Harry said, looking supremely uncomfortable where they were stood at Platform 9¾.

“You’ll get used to it,” Dad said with a smirk that was not at all helpful.

“I don’t want to get used to it.”

“Maybe they’ll get used to _you_ and stop before you have to deal with it yourself,” Remus offered. Good old Uncle Moony giving him a way out of dealing with his problems. He was going to miss him so much.

Harry hugged him tightly. “Do I have to go?”

Remus and Dad shared a look before Dad bent down to be on Harry’s eye level. “You don’t have to, but I’d like for you to try. If, in a few weeks, it isn’t working, then we’ll bring you home and find you a tutor. I know you’re scared Harry, but this could be an amazing experience if you give it a shot.”

Harry nodded, still not letting Uncle Remus go. “Can Moony come with me?”

Remus laughed and ruffled Harry’s already messy hair. “Sorry sprog I don’t think wolves are on the list of approved pets.”

“They should be,” he mumbled petulantly, turning to hug Dad around the middle when the five minute whistle went off.

He wished Papa were here, not that Harry remembered much about him. Dad had been happier then, hadn’t he? It didn’t matter anymore. No matter what Dad said about Papa loving him, he had still left. But then again, couples got into fights didn’t they? Maybe that’s what had happened. It would certainly explain the lack of pictures that Harry knew existed but were nowhere to be found. Papa had been around all the time and then… nothing. He couldn’t recall something he might have done to send him away.

Harry wrinkled his nose when Dad kissed his cheek, but his heart wasn’t in it and they both knew that. He would ask about Papa in a few years, when he was old enough that Dad would finally have to tell him the truth. Dad always got… weird when he asked about Papa. Not quite sad, but definitely not in the realm of happy.

“Go on, Haz. Have fun!”

“Hopefully not as much fun as we had,” Uncle Remus muttered under his breath before smiling and hugging Harry goodbye.

“Make sure you write. I’ll get lonely.”

“I will, Dad, once a week like I promised.”

“You can write more if you want, you know. Don’t think that just because--”

“James,” Remus said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “he knows.”

“Right. Sorry.” Dad gave him another quick hug, then gently pushed Harry in the direction of the train.

* * *

Sirius nervously fiddled with his fork in the Great Hall. This was the year that Harry would be coming to Hogwarts-- if he did come that is. He wondered what Harry would look like now. The hair had been-- and probably always would be-- all Potter, but as a baby he’d looked more like Lily. As he’d gotten older, it had become more obvious, but maybe that had changed. It _had_ been five years; a lot could happen in that time, especially for a child. Godric and Salazar, Harry probably wouldn’t even recognise him.

As much as Sirius had tried to move on with his life after… after, it wasn’t until this moment that he realised how suspended he was. It had been like this before he met James too, and all the summers in between. It’s like his life only had two settings: With James (and able to grow and change), and Without James (and frozen in time until he came back). Remus was the only one he’d be able to talk to about something like that, but, well, they haven’t been close since Sirius moved to Hogwarts, not that Sirius told him that that’s where he was. They’ve stayed in contact, but it was along the lines of sending an owl every month or two. And they don’t talk about James. All Sirius knows about him and Harry is whatever swill the Prophet decides to print that day, but all it lets him know for sure is that they’re alive, which doesn’t mean rubbish because Remus would definitely tell him if something happened.

“You and James’s boy,” Mcgonagall said from her chair next to him. “I can only imagine the trouble he’ll get up to with you here.”

So he was coming. Sirius’s heart tried to beat its way out of his chest. “Why Minnie, I’m offended. I’m on the teacher's’ side now, you know.”

“You’ll never be on the teacher’s side no matter how long you are technically a teacher, Sirius.”

“You have so little faith in me.”

She gave him a stern look that he smiled brightly at. “I don’t need faith when I have proof.”

Sirius look back to the table where his grip on the fork hadn’t lessened at all. “Relax, McKitty, I won’t get him in any trouble.”

“I don’t imagine he’ll need much help,” she said drily. “From what James has told me-- and from what I’ve seen-- Harry is rather adept at it by himself. With you, Remus, and James raising the boy, it’s no wonder.”

Sirius didn’t say anything. She’d find out the truth soon enough when Harry didn’t recognise him, though the real wonder was her not already knowing if she’d been in contact with James _and_ Harry.

Gods but Sirius missed Harry. He’d begun to think of Harry as his, and even after the fight he and James had, Sirius felt like an absent parent. He wanted to know everything he missed, and _Merlin_ that was the problem wasn’t it? Harry would be here, one of Sirius’s students… but that’s it. That’s all he would be. Sirius couldn’t ‘catch up on what he missed’ because he would continue to miss it unless James had a sudden change of heart and-- Sirius swallowed thickly-- the chances of that happening were about the same as him getting a flobberworm for a pet.

Time passed slowly enough that Sirius was half-convinced it was because of a curse, the way it felt waiting for McGonagall to return. Finally, she entered the Great Hall, tiny first years trailing behind her and looking around in awe.

He easily picked Harry out of the line, staring at the ceiling in half-awe and half like he was trying to remember something. Sirius’s heart lurched as he remembered the weekend he and James had fixed Harry’s bedroom ceiling to look this way, showing the sky without clouds blocking the view. He tried to squash down the hope; James had probably made the change more permanent or maybe brought it back for the holidays.

Merlin’s saggy balls Sirius wasn’t prepared for this.

Sirius clapped at the appropriate times, smiling all the while, but he felt like he’d been scrambled about then thrown into an ill-fitting container. Harry was put into Gryffindor, and for the first time that night, Sirius’s smile was genuine. He’d always thought that Harry would be put there, too much like James (and Sirius himself), too willing to rush into a situation headfirst without pausing to think if there was another way. Of course, he _had_ been a kid at the time, and most kids were that way, but still. It was nice to have something familiar.

Dumbledore was his usual self, causing the first years to look around like they couldn’t decide if it was okay to laugh or if they should be scared. Once the food appeared though, they dove in, talking to each other and the friendly upperclassmen.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t waved at you,” McGonagall said, and- yep, there was the suspicion.

Sirius hummed noncommittally.

“Sirius,” she said sternly.

He sighed, continuing to play with his food. His appetite had been non-existent so far, but it’s not like he could just leave; there were rules for the start-of-term feast. The current topic of conversation sure as hell wasn’t going to help his stomach decide to want food. “James and I haven’t talked in… some time. Harry probably doesn’t remember me.”

When she didn’t say anything, Sirius glanced up to find her staring at him, her eyes slightly widened in shock. “I don’t suppose it is for a reason you would be willing to share?”

Sirius smirked wryly and it felt like stretching half-dried clay. “Not today, Minnie. On my death bed, maybe. I’ll be sure to send you an invitation just to hear the story.” It wasn’t a lie-- he fully intended on dying before McGonagall, more because she didn’t seem the type to die than because Sirius would die young.

When the feast was finally over, Sirius collapsed on his bed but couldn’t fall asleep. He stared at the ceiling for hours, memories from years ago turning through his head. He’d thought about James every day since he’d last seen him, but tonight was worse than usual.

What had he told Harry? Sirius had been living with them and then vanished one day, out of the blue as far as Harry was concerned. Had James bothered to tell him anything? Or had he just brushed off Harry’s questions until he forgot all about Sirius and stopped asking?

He had no idea what to think. Did he ever know James enough to postulate on a decision like this? Given their last interaction, he was inclined to say no. But the years of friendship beforehand made him wish he could say yes, and doubt his immediate, hurt reaction of ‘I never really knew him’.

He sighed and rolled over, closing his eyes in the vain attempt to get a few hours of rest. He eventually fell asleep, but he only knows that because his alarm jerked him awake. It can’t have been long because it felt like he’d gotten one-- maybe two, if he was being generous, which he wasn’t feeling at the moment-- hour of sleep.

Sirius checked his schedule for the umpteenth time just to confirm that, no, he didn’t have any first year classes today. Today was sixth and seventh years, and while those were usually the more stressful classes to teach, it was a relief to be able to wait until he had to see Harry. (Honestly the worse part about teaching the upper level classes was when the students tried to hit on him-- which they always did-- and not the stress of upcoming exams like he pretended.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like having my chapter with more words than this, but, well, it's the first book. Things are going slow. Chapters should be longer once James and Sirius start actually interacting with each other, but I promise nothing. Also, if there's a specific scene you'd like to see, lemme know and I'll see what I can do ;)


	3. Professor Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're getting two chapters at once! ...because the next one's really short. 
> 
> Also what the FUCK was I thinking doing a slow burn??? I'M DYING AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT.

One day between seeing Harry for the first time in five years and having him in class was not enough. Class had been distracting him while it was going on, but he didn’t have enough classes scheduled to take up as much time as he wished (read: all of his time).

Sirius went through his usual introductory speech on autopilot, trying not to stare at Harry but also trying to not make him think his professor was avoiding him. “Before we begin, I want to put a name to each of your faces, so speak up when I call your name.” Sirius pulled the list towards him, and tried not to dwell on the names he recognised from the war. He mostly succeeded, but there was no way of not noting whose parents had died… and which ones had been Death Eaters. This year was worse than usual, and it would probably continue to get worse from this year on. _Don’t judge them because of their parents_ , he kept repeating to himself. They were eleven-- kids-- and he was their professor. He couldn’t afford to be an arsehole like he usually acted, no matter how much he wanted to.

Sirius very carefully didn’t trip on Harry’s name, and no one was the wiser. He let out a sigh of relief when the students were leaving, but it felt anticlimactic. He loved Harry so much and the first time they were in close proximity again, nothing happened. He shook his head. Don’t look a gift Abraxan in the mouth.

“Professor Black?” he heard, and turned to face- Harry.

“Yes?” It was the first time he was seeing Harry up close since he’d left that day, and wow, he’d grown up. It sounded ridiculous after he thought it, but he’d watched Harry grow every day for years and suddenly here he was. Taller, looking more like Lily than ever, and yet still so small. As obvious as it was that Sirius had missed so much, it was just as obvious that there was more to come. More that… he wouldn’t miss but wouldn’t be close to him for.

“This might sound weird but,” Harry scuffed his shoe against the floor nervously, “have we met before? You look familiar.”

Sirius shrugged, but it felt tight in his back. Thank Merlin children aren’t the best lie detectors. “If you’ve been to Diagon in the summers you might have seen me.” Probably wouldn’t have, because Sirius was always paranoid he’d accidentally run into them when he left Hogwarts, but it was possible.

“Yeah, maybe that’s it,” Harry said, but he didn’t seem convinced.

_It’s not my responsibility to tell him if James hasn’t_ , he told himself sternly. Godric but he hated lying to Harry. Sirius smiled, bade him goodbye, and told him he could drop by anytime.

He didn’t know if he was warning against it or begging him to come back.

* * *

Harry left, trying to figure out where he’d recognised Professor Black from. He looked _so_ familiar, but the answer refused to come to him, instead niggling in the back of his mind for the rest of the day.

Transfiguration was next, and with it Professor McGonagall. Harry had liked her from the first time they met, if only for the stories about Mum that she told him. (Dad mentioned Mum every now and then, but he never really told _stories_.) Eventually he liked having her around for herself, but that’s how it started. Harry hoped he didn’t disappoint her, though he knew the only way that could truly happen was if he didn’t try.

It wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be to maintain a proper professor-student relationship; she didn’t inspire misconduct.

He thought about asking her about Professor Black when class ended, but decided against it. Maybe he just needed to sleep on it, and then he’d remember. If not, he could always ask Dad when he wrote to him at the end of the week, he’d probably know.

* * *

If Sirius didn’t think too hard, it was easy to pretend that no time had passed. Worry about Harry? Why would he? The sprog was only five, and James and Remus would ensure nothing happened to him. Sirius was just teaching class, that’s it, nothing to overthink and be stressed by.

Of course, the illusion was always shattered. After that first class, Harry had taken to visiting Sirius when he was in the corridor. Not for long, just a short conversation here and there, but Sirius was quickly losing his professor-ly composure. Emotional distance wasn’t something he was skilled at. James being his best mate after two minutes on the train together proved that.

At the end of the week, he ruffled Harry’s hair with a smile, both of them freezing a moment later. Harry in- recognition? And Sirius because this was _definitely_ crossing the line of what professor/student interactions were supposed to be. He used to do this to Harry all the time, ruffling his hair just to get him grin but pretend to be mad, trying futilely to smooth his hair into something presentable.

Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Sorry Mister Potter.”

“No it- it’s fine, Professor.” Harry was clearly wracking his brain for information, but drawing blanks. He put his hand up to his hair, petting it down even though it wouldn’t do any good. He gave up on both accounts after a few moments, instead smiling up at Sirius with wide-eyed happiness. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

* * *

James eagerly tore into the letter, making sure to pet Hedwig before he did so (she got cranky otherwise). This was Harry's first week of school and James could not be more excited to hear about his classes, if he'd made any friends, and if he was as fond of Minnie as James was.   
  
For that matter, James was excited to hear about all the professors. He knew McGonagall and Flitwick were still there, but he had no idea about the rest. Binns, too, certainly, which was unfortunate because Harry did so love history, and if there was one way to kill that love, it would be ghosty Binns droning on and on without a care in either world. He and Sirius had always-- no, nope. Not going there.

 

_Hi Dad!_

_Hogwarts is great, but I miss home. I’m not allowed to fly here, that’s probably the worst part. But classes are going good, for the most part. I’m not doing fantastic in Transfiguration, I don’t think it’s for me. Professor McGonagall’s a good teacher though. I think the potions professor hates me, but I didn’t even do anything. Maybe you know him? Professor Snape. Does he hate everyone who isn’t in Slytherin or summat?_

_Oh! But Professor Black is amazing =) I wanted to ask, have I met him before? He seems really familiar but I can’t figure it out. Oh I don’t think I said, but he teaches history, which is even better! I was worried about Binns but apparently Professor Black has been here for the past five years. Everyone says that the students test better on the O.W.L.’s and N.E.W.T.’s than they ever did before. He’s a lot of fun too._

_Neville’s doing good and he says hi (Professor Snape seems to really hate him too, seriously what’s his problem?). Ron Weasley is my best friend, but he likes the Chudley Cannons. Can you imagine? I think he just likes their colours (for whatever reason)._

_Miss you, love you, give Uncle Moony a hug for me._

_Harry_

 

James leaned back in his chair, though ‘leaned’ was a nice way of saying it. He basically fell back in it, the parchment crinkling in his too-tight grip. ‘Professor Black’ could only be one person, because there was only one living Black left. Several people in the Black family were still alive, but they were married, belonging to different Houses now, and Sirius _had_ thought about becoming a teacher for a couple years before they joined the Aurors together.  

Sirius… Sirius was at Hogwarts. Teaching. Teaching Harry. He’d avoided him for years and… for what? Harry and Sirius were in the same place now with no sign of that changing, Harry loved him, even if he didn’t completely remember him, and there was nothing James could do about it. Honestly, he didn’t _want_ to do anything about it. His cowardice had cost Harry and Sirius five years together, and it would’ve cost them more if the situation hadn’t been taken out of his hands.

He’d tell Harry about Sirius when he saw him next; he deserved better than to hear about it through a letter. He deliberately leaned towards the table, smoothing out Harry’s letter as best he could to reread it.

Merlin, what a mess. Snape was at Hogwarts too, and apparently doing a bang-up job of teaching. James had never bought Dumbledore’s explanation of ‘He has changed’ during the war, and he felt like Snape picking on Neville was proof. Alice and Frank had been a scourge to Death Eaters, and, unlike James, Snape had no other reason to dislike their family. Not that Harry deserved it either, but James could understand more because of what he’d done to Snape in Hogwarts. …He still wanted to hex him a bit for treating his son that way, but he squashed the urge down. If Sirius could resist-- and he obviously had been if they were both still working there-- then James could too.

He penned a reply, not mentioning Sirius because he couldn’t figure out how to tell him that they would talk about it later but for the moment he needed to not be curious. Hell, there was _no_ good way to say that. He explained the Snape situation as best he could, opting out of telling him that Snape had wanted to date Lily. There were some things better left unsaid, especially in that mess.

He couldn’t stop himself from flooing Remus immediately after though. “Remus? You home?” He should be, James knew his schedule, and they did just about everything together because Remus didn’t like going out in public alone (it was safer).

“Study!”

James took his shoes off, setting them neatly by the door because anything less would get him a scolding from Remus. He padded over, leaning against the door frame.

Remus took one look at him and turned around fully in his chair. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you know that Sirius is teaching at Hogwarts?” James said in a blank tone.

Remus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Huh. Apparently he didn’t know. James felt better for it. “He never said.” And there was the confirmation that they stayed in contact. James expected them to, but it was odd that Sirius wouldn’t have mentioned anything. Remus must have picked up on that because he said, “We’re not that close anymore.”

“Oh.” That had to be James’s fault. After the war, the three of them had been as close as they were during Hogwarts, more so, almost, for the people they’d lost since then.

“So does Harry remember him?”

“He’s not sure. Gods Moony what am I supposed to tell him?”

“The truth?”

James stared at him flatly. “He’s eleven. And I haven’t even told you what happened.”

“I noticed,” Remus said drily. “I meant, you could tell him that you and Sirius used to be friends, so he was around to help raise him.”

Well James knew he had to say that much, but what about everything else? “And when he asks why he’s not around at _all_ anymore?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you want me to say, James. You’re Harry’s father, you’re the one that has to deal with this.” He turned back to his desk. “Unless of course you want to grow a pair and tell me what happened between you and Sirius.” When James didn’t say anything, he added, “That’s what I thought. Let me know how that conversation turns out, yeah?”

“Remus,” he whinged. “Help me.”

“I already gave you my advice, James, it’s not my fault if you don’t want to listen to me.”

James frowned pitifully, but he knew that Remus was right. Regardless, he walked over and put his head on Remus’s shoulder. “Be nice to me, I’m going through a lot.”

“Most of it self-induced,” Remus had the kindness to remind him.

“Thank you so much Moony you really know how to lift my spirits.”

Remus snorted, and James thought it funny that at one point he thought Remus had been the nice one of the Marauders. None of them had been nice, really. “Again, you only have yourself to blame.”

“What makes you think it’s something I did and not Sirius?” he asked curiously. Not that he would let Remus think that Sirius did, but it was the principle of the matter.

“Because if Sirius had done something wrong, he wouldn’t have showed up on my doorstep sobbing and saying that you hated him. He has a very specific way of acting when he’s the one at fault, as do you. He didn’t do anything wrong, James, and we both know it. Like I said, the only way I can actually help you here is if you tell me what happened.”

James mussed his hair as he considered-- truly considered-- it. Eventually, he shook his head. “Maybe in a month or two.”

He stood to leave, but paused when Remus called out, “You can’t run from this forever, James.”

“I know,” he whispered. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to fight like hell to avoid it.


	4. Best Mates?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ignore the mess that is the POV in this chapter. I would've changed it if I didn't actually think it was best this way *shrug*

Harry frowned down at the letter. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Dad had completely ignored the subject of Professor Black, but he did give an explanation for Professor Snape, and said he was happy that Harry could still enjoy history, so at least there was that. 

...It wasn’t really enough. Harry was burning with curiosity, so much that he didn’t want to wait for Winter Break to corner him about it and get an answer. After another three letters with no explanation, two weeks of Professor Black not giving anything up, and Moony saying that his father was a bloody idiot but nothing more, Harry decided to ask Professor McGonagall. 

She didn’t have any classes or appointments, he had made sure of that before deciding to go to her that day. Her office door was open, but he knocked anyway. She looked up, her eyes warm when she recognized him. 

“What can I do for you, Mister Potter?” 

“It’s not about school actually,” he said, though he doubted he could call her anything but Professor so long as they were in Hogwarts. Or maybe that was a classroom specific urge. “I… had some questions about my dad I wanted to ask you.” 

She nodded, then invited him to sit across from her, stacking the parchment in front of her and setting it aside to let him know she was listening.  

“Do him and Professor Black know each other?” 

She blinked in shock at him. “What?” Sirius had said he and James hadn’t spoken in some time, but… well, she thought he meant a month or two after some stupid spat. Never, in her wildest dreams, could she have imagined  _ this _ : James and Sirius being so disconnected that his son couldn’t recognise him. 

Harry shifted nervously. “Well he just seems really familiar, but Dad won’t tell me anything, and neither will Uncle Remus.” 

“You don’t recognise him?” 

“Well, no, not- really.” She didn’t say anything for a minute, which only enforced the idea that whatever this was, it was big. Harry couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t just tell him-- except in Moony’s case, he always did like to make Dad deal with his own messes. 

This probably wasn’t any of her business, but she wasn’t going to let Harry suffer because his parents didn’t feel like talking to each other and admitting their mistakes. “Sirius Black and James Potter are… were the best of friends. Even after they graduated, you hardly saw one of them without the other. Inseparable.” She had always thought they would be together. She doubted anyone had been more surprised than her when Lily and James got married. “When Lily died, Sirius moved in with James to help raise you.” 

Harry sat back stunned. She hadn’t said much but… raise him? Professor Black had helped  _ raise _ him? But then- why wouldn’t he have said anything? What changed? Why hasn’t Harry seen him in years? 

“Until a few minutes ago, I was under the impression that he was still living with both you and your father over the holidays.”  _ Where he belongs _ , she finished mentally. Godric and Salazar what had happened to those two? Sirius was going  _ somewhere _ over the holidays, and she hadn’t thought to ask because the answer had seemed so clear. 

Numbly, Harry shook his head. She hadn’t asked a question but… he couldn’t believe it. He knew that his father didn’t tell him everything, but something this huge? 

Professor McGonagall came around her desk and put a hand on his shoulder, then squeezed it comfortingly. “Why don’t you take some time to think on this, try writing your father again. If he doesn’t answer you, come back to me and I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can.” 

“Really?” 

She nodded, giving him a small smile and helping him out of his chair purely for comfort’s sake, a pleasant reminder that she was here for him. 

Harry hesitated for a moment, then threw his arms around her. “Thanks Aunt Minnie.” 

She pat his back and sighed, but, if Dad were to be believed, she didn’t really mind the nickname. Harry thanked her again, then left. Originally, he was going to wait to corner his father about the subject of Papa for a few years, but if it  _ was _ Professor Black, Harry couldn’t wait. In a few months, at the most, Harry would finally know what happened.


	5. The Stone and the Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. This could have been posted like 2 weeks ago had I known I was going to end the chapter here instead of writing more to it like I planned.

“You what?” Sirius hissed.

Dumbledore regarded him calmly. “This is the safest place for it.”

“At the risk of everyone here! Shouldn’t the students be your highest priority? For Merlin’s sake Dumbledore, think this through! Flamel can keep his precious buggering stone in _his_ home and away from the future of the wizarding world! What the hell were you thinking agreeing to this? Why not just paint a giant glowing target over the school and say ‘criminals welcome’?”

“Sirius,” he said sternly, and Sirius stopped his frantic pacing. “Everything I do, I do with the safety of the wizarding world in mind. Someone is after the stone--”

“Then destroy it!”

Dumbledore pinned him with a hard look that Sirius glared at. “Preparations are being made for that. We only have to keep it safe till the end of the school year, and then it is out of our hands.” His demeanor relaxed, and he grabbed his jar of sweets. “Lemon drop?” he offered, taking one himself.

Sirius rolled his eyes but sat in the seat in front of his desk and took one, popping it into his mouth. For Dumbledore to be acting this way… it meant he was as worried as Sirius was.

“I have a few ideas for its defense, but I would welcome any suggestions you may have.”

“I’m a teacher not a tactician.”

“For now. I was once a fighter and not a teacher, as were you. We all change Mister Black.”

Sirius sighed and mulled it over. “We need diversity. Any one approach won’t help. All the person would have to do is find an expert on that subject and they’d sail off into the sunset before we knew what happened.”

Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully. “An excellent idea. Though I do think Voldemort’s own skills would be enough that he would not require assistance.”

Sirius jolted. “ _Voldemort?_ You think  _Voldemort_ is after the Stone?” Dumbledore nodded absently and Sirius threw up his hands. “When, exactly, were you planning on sharing that information?”

“Right now. There have been whispers, louder than usual, and then just this summer, a break-in for the one item in this world that can grant immortality.” He looked at Sirius. “I need the Stone and young Mister Potter in one location so as to better keep an eye on them. I imagined you would welcome the proximity for your own peace of mind as well.”

“Having Harry close by? Absolutely. Having an item to lure in the person that’s trying to kill him in the same building? Not so much.” Sirius tiredly rubbed a hand over his face. “‘Peace of mind’ isn’t exactly what I’m feeling right now.” Extreme panic, yes, but nothing coming close to contentment. What a cursed mess.

They continued talking, various preparations that needed to be made, discussing what could reasonably be done. It took a few days for them to settle, and when they did, Dumbledore dropped another surprise: he had the Mirror of Erised. He brought Sirius to the room where he currently had it, and they both stared at it with longing.

Sirius walked closer without meaning to, hand reaching out to touch the side of the mirror that was in front of him. Another three steps, diagonal, and a turn, and he could see James again. He had no doubt James would be there.

He drew his hand back to his chest. “What do you see?” he asked without turning around, his voice echoing in the otherwise empty room.

Dumbledore didn’t speak for a minute. “Same as you will, I think. Old friends.”

His footsteps were light, but the sound of the door closing was distinct. Sirius swallowed and continued to look at the frame of the mirror for long enough that he lost track of how long he’d been standing there. Eventually, he took the three steps and turned. And froze.

James was there yes, but he was younger. All of them were, like during the war but without the toll it took of them. Remus and Peter were beside each other, holding hands like they did back when they were in Hogwarts. He’d always meant to ask if they were together or just friends, but then the war happened and then Peter became Pettigrew when he betrayed them and he wasn’t going to ask Remus about it then.

Regulus was also there, by Sirius’s side, and even as Sirius looked at them, the reflection-Sirius and Regulus smiled at each other, a secret little thing like back when they had been children and only had each other. Reg’s arm was bare, free of the Dark Mark he had never wanted.

And James. James was grinning at Sirius like he was the best thing on the planet, his arm low on his waist. An engagement (wedding?) ring glinted on the third finger of his left hand, complementing the one on Sirius’s.

Sirius automatically went to his left hand to feel it, ripping from the dream when he felt that there was nothing there. He looked down and- yeah. He swallowed thickly, glancing at the Sirius-reflection. This was dangerous. Sirius took one last, lingering look at them-- the Marauders, as they should have been, how he hoped they could have been-- and then he left, shutting the door resolutely behind him.


	6. Teamwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A 6 month wait. This is what happens when I try and do plot @god: wHY

Harry was vibrating with nerves as McGonagall told Oliver that Harry would be joining the House team. Then he froze. That was- okay a good thing, he missed flying, but it was unexpected all the same, and he wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t some sort of prank even though McGonagall didn’t seem the sort to do that.

Except then they were both talking at him with excited voices and talks of practises and getting him a broom of his own, and this was a bit far for a joke to go, especially for Professor McGonagall, who’d only shown interest in messing with Dad, not Harry-- and even then they weren’t in the way of pranks.

He was still trying to parse out whether or not it was a joke when McGonagall started walking away, saying something about convincing the headmaster to bend the no-first-years-in-Quidditch rule for them and how Harry had better not slack off. “Okay?” Harry said when it looked like they expected him to say something. He was left standing there feeling like a complete berk, but at least he didn’t get in trouble for what he did during flying lessons.

Of course then his day went to hell because Draco Malfoy challenged him to a duel but didn’t show up and called Filch to get them all in trouble and Peeves was being Peeves and then they ended up in a room with a bloody cerberus that did _not_ look happy to see them.

‘Them’ being Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville, that is. They made it back to the tower without any further problems, thank Merlin.

Hermione was lecturing them about being idiots or summat, although she did point out that the cerberus was guarding a trap door so it wasn’t all bad. “Or _worse_ , expelled,” she finished.

Harry frowned at her. “You think getting expelled is worse than getting murdered?” he asked before she could leave up the girls’ staircase.

She doubled down on her glare, hands on her hips.

Harry knew that he shouldn’t say it, but Hermione was acting all superior and she wasn’t saying anything helpful. “I think my mum would rather have been expelled from school than be murdered by Voldemort.”

It did the trick and she left without another word, paler than before. He ignored the guilt bubbling at the edges of his stomach as they went to bed.

He apologised in the morning, but held that she didn’t need to be so harsh with them given that she followed them for next to no reason, breaking curfew as well. Hermione hesitated, then scowled at her plate. “I thought I could keep you out of trouble.”

“All that would have done is gotten you in trouble too.” She stormed off again and Harry sighed. “Good going, Potter,” he muttered to himself.

* * *

“And I don’t know why she got so upset!” Harry finished and it’s possible that he should have chosen someone other than Professor Black to talk to, because the man looked like he was trying not to laugh. Dad would do the same, except he’d tell Harry why what he did was wrong first. Come to think of it, he probably shouldn’t have told a Professor anything, because even though he tried to omit a few details, he knew that he wasn’t good at lying, and he hadn’t really edited out the bits that would get him in trouble-- just the cerberus and that room.

Sirius rubbed at his face, trying unsuccessfully to cover his smile. “Are you done?”

Harry nodded petulantly, expecting a bit of a lecture and was not disappointed. The content was… well, the sort that Dad would give him.

“First things first pup, you don’t bring a goodie-two-shoes out rule breaking with you. Agreed?” He waited until Harry nodded. “Second of all, you don’t go and tell a bloody Professor about it, that’s a good way to get detention.”

Harry’s shoulders started drawing up to his ears.

Sirius sighed. “Ten points from Gryffindor. There. I did my part. _Third_ of all, Harry, you don’t- Merlin. You don’t accept a duel challenge when you don’t know any spells. Actually,” he pinned Harry with an intense look, “don’t accept any duels, ever, it’s a good way to get injured, not to mention an archaic, pureblooded way of dealing with issues. Third of all--”

“You already did third.”

Sirius paused and thought back over what he said. “Okay, fourth of all, I know that right now it seems like the most important thing in the world to be right. Because you will be, often, and people won’t want to listen to you. But Harry, when you’re looking back at your Hogwarts years, you’re not going to remember the people who told you you were wrong and were right about it, you’re going to remember the people that treated you like dirt.”

Harry sunk into his chair and tried to disappear. He thinks he would have preferred Dad’s approach because that, at least, always ended on a good note (except for when he _really_ messed up, of course).

“Hey,” Sirius said softly. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Harry. It’s okay to make mistakes, and as far as mistakes go, this is a pretty good one to make. Plus you’re young. Best to make these sorts of mistakes before you’re an adult.”

Harry went back to Hermione after his conversation with Sirius was done, wringing his hands as he walked up to her table in the library. “Hermione? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

She eyed him suspiciously but nodded.

“I’m sorry. You were just trying to help, I didn’t have to be rude about it.”

“Thank you.” Hermione chewed on her lip, obviously thinking something over. “Would you like to join me? We do have that essay for Transfiguration to work on.”

“Oh, er.” Harry nervously shifted his bag.

“You don’t have to,” Hermione rushed to add, clearly thinking he was saying no, “it was just an invitation.”

“No, I know, it’s just- I don’t know how to use a library. It’s not like the one back home.” He’d figured out the Muggle system of organising books simply because they’d had to use it as school all the time, but he couldn’t make head nor tails of the way the wizarding world organised them. Frankly, he’d given it up as a lost cause.

“I can explain it to you?” Hermione offered, hope shining in her eyes.

Harry smiled gratefully. “That’d be great.”

A few days later, Sirius spotted Harry and Hermione talking over breakfast, and he smiled to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wait annoyed me as much as it annoyed you (probably), so there might not be Harry focused chapters that don't concern James/Sirius in the future. I dunno, I'm still thinking it over.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [@siriuslystarbucks](http://siriuslystarbucks.tumblr.com/)


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